


The Time Steve Got the Boys Arrested

by wolfiefics



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bar Fight, Fluff, the randomness that comes from brains on Japanese food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:18:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title is pretty much self explanatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time Steve Got the Boys Arrested

**Author's Note:**

> If you squint at the end you can get a hint of Stucky. This was from a prompt from my roommate, who's not a slasher. Since I write in the slash genres, I put in a tiny reference to make my inner muse happy. Also I know just enough about American football to know I don't care about it so there's nothing personal against the Giants or the Dolphins in the making of this fic.

“It’s a drink at a local watering hole,” Sam Wilson told his two companions with amused exasperation. “I know you two did a lot of drinking at a lot of watering holes during the second World War.”

“And how do you know this?” demanded Bucky Barnes suspiciously. Only recently had the Winter Soldier decided that Sam Wilson, aka The Falcon to the press, was worthy of being allowed in his presence without a full frisking and prior week check of all known associates and visited venues. He still occasionally had issues, however, whenever Sam made correct suppositions like this one. 

Steve rolled his eyes and shrugged. “A few,” he stated noncommittally. “Italy and France were full of bars and taverns. We won’t go into England.” 

“Ah yes, London and the White Horse Inn,” Bucky sighed fondly. “Best whiskey I ever tasted, straight from Scotland! Two glasses got me drunk in less than half an hour.” 

That was apparently some sort of record for Barnes and Sam decided he didn’t need to know any more. “Right, anyway, we go to a bar, get us some beers, or whiskey,” he amended at Barnes’ look of potential interruption, “and we watch the game. Hang out. Be guys instead of superheroes doing heroic things.” 

“I’m not a superhero,” Barnes told him with what passed as cheer on his normally sullen countenance. “I got no problem watching a game. It’s football season though, right? No more baseball?” 

Sam nodded, wondering if he was getting ready to get another half an hour of Barnes whining about the injustice of the current American sports scene. It was a minimum two days on how soccer was suddenly popular. Apparently Barnes didn’t think there was much merit to kicking a ball up and down a field but it was okay to hit it with a big stick and run around trying to avoid the ball. Sam still hadn’t figured that one out and didn’t want to open another can of worms. 

“No more baseball, Bucky,” Steve agreed, “but it’s football season. You used to play football in school. Weren’t half bad.” Steve turned back to Sam to confide. “He was a tight end.” 

“You should have heard the jokes,” Barnes added. “Lots of tight end jokes. Do they still have those?” He was so earnest in his expression that Sam decided that, while he wasn’t sure what kind of jokes tight end positions could warrant (other than the obvious sexual innuendos), he was better off nodding. 

“Yes, many jokes about tight ends,” Sam reassured him, patently praying that Barnes wouldn’t request one because then he’d be in deep shit. 

Barnes gave Steve a triumphant look. “And you were worried that the future wasn’t juvenile enough for me.” Sam coughed around a laugh. Steve merely rolled his eyes again. 

“Okay, so are we agreed?” Sam pressed the original point. “Three buds going out for beer and a game, being normal, everyday guys for one afternoon?” 

“Yeah, okay,” agreed Steve, his sunny smile breaking through the clouds of misgivings he’d been sporting when Sam broached the subject earlier. 

Barnes actually cheered. “The stick in the mud is going to let me have a beer?” 

“A beer, Buck,” threatened Steve. “A beer, single, not plural and no whiskey. Remember what happened when you got into Tony’s expensive stash. I’m not paying for a new bar or Tony more stitches.” 

“He started it,” Barnes stated dismissively and Sam ferverently didn’t want to know and hoped to God no one told him. He was beginning to wonder if he was going to pay for this later. 

#

Steve hadn’t been in many bars socially since waking up 75 years in the future. Other than televisions replacing the wireless and full service food instead of just peanuts at the bar, not much had changed. 

Men, and some women, were lounging at the bar itself, ensconced in tables and booths or just standing around chatting or screaming at the players on the, as Tony called it, ‘boob tube’. Many were wearing jerseys, t-shirts or sweatshirts with the local team, The Giants, prominently displayed. Some things didn’t change. The Giants still dominated in New York apparently. 

Steve glanced at the TV and noted that the Giants were beginning the first quarter of the game against the Miami Dolphins. It was freezing in New York but Steve vaguely remembered that Giants stadium was now in New Jersey. Another reason to detest New Jersey, he supposed, with all the 1940s disdain of a native Brooklynite . However, from the looks of the stadium on television it was an away game, being played in Miami. Not a whole lot of palm trees in New Jersey and sure as hell not that much sun in December. 

Sam shouldered his way to an empty booth and settled himself in. They didn’t have a perfectly good view of a television set but with some creative maneuvering they would do all right. It was a sports bar and the management made sure that all seating gave decent access to the view screens. 

A harried waitress came over and slapped three menus down. Without waiting for them to start she started rattling off the specials. “We got on draft Bud, Bud Lite, Miller Lite, Busch, Sam Adams Light and Pale and Fosters. All pitchers are$5.00 today and all appetizers are half off until 3 pm.” 

Steve and Bucky both looked at Sam who ordered a pitcher of Sam Adams Pale Ale and some onion rings to start out with. “I love this place’s cheeseburgers,” Sam enthused, his dark eyes sparkling with muted excitement. “Oh, come on! That was interference! You guys need your eyes checked?” 

His shouts were part of a cacophony of shouts from other occupants of the bar who felt the same way. Steve was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea until he got a good look at Bucky’s face. 

Bucky was excited. His grey-blue eyes were alight and his head swiveled this way and that exuberantly as he looked around him at the people. Steve felt a twinge of guilt at keeping Bucky away from the public so much but they never knew when his programming was going to go awry. They were still finding trigger words and locked memories that would send Bucky Barnes into the recesses of his mind and the Winter Soldier to the forefront. Obviously, though, Bucky had been missing social interaction with people other than the Avengers and various approved S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. He’d always been the more social one, going out with girls to dance and the local bar with friends to listen to the games or play pool. Steve had been the homebody, more content with the radio at home, a book or his sketchpads than an evening ‘out with the boys’. 

The waitress returned with three frosty glasses and a pitcher of reddish brown ale. “Your onion wings will be out in a minute,” she told them with a soft smile at Bucky. 

He gave her a flirty one in return and her eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and slender waist. Bucky always got the girls to give him the eye, Steve remembered and then belatedly realized she was giving him the same once over too. He blushed which caused her to wink at him. 

“You hungry, boys?” she asked, taking out her order pad. 

“Cheeseburger and all the works,” Sam told her. 

“Chicken sandwich, add more onion rings,” Bucky said. 

She turned to Steve, who cleared his throat. He was starving, with his enhanced metabolism. “Bacon double cheeseburger, all the trimmings, order of French fries, and that’ll do me for now.” 

Her eyes widened. “For now?” 

He gave her a sheepish grin but didn’t elaborate. 

“Okay, fellas, I’ll bring out the rings in a few and the rest when it’s ready. Enjoy the game.” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Steve told her and Bucky chortled when she winked at him again. 

“Ma’am. God, Steve, I forgot what a stiff you can be sometimes.” 

“I’m polite-“ Steve began but whatever else he was going to say was cut off when the bar erupted in loud cheers. 

“Yeah!” Sam slapped his hand three times on the table in his exuberance. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” 

“Did they score? Did I miss it?” Bucky leaned to peer around Steve at the television. “Ah man, Steve, move back. I can’t see the TV.” 

Steve obliged. “I take it we scored?” 

“First touchdown of the game and we’re ahead. The Dolphins are tough though,” Sam told him. “And we’re playing on their turf.” 

“You a Giants fan?” Bucky asked. 

“I just like football and I’m in New York so I’m a Giants fan.” Sam shrugged and took a swig of his beer. 

“Brooklyn had a football team, The Dodgers,” Steve began but Bucky interrupted. 

“Nah they were the Tigers, Steve.” 

“Actually weren’t they both?” Sam asked. Both out of timers nodded sullenly. 

“Like all good Brooklyn teams, they went away.” Steve wasn’t going to go into the travesty that was the Brooklyn Dodgers baseball team. That betrayal still rankled. Bucky scowled as well. 

“Football, boys, not baseball,” Sam joked. “Focus, focus.” 

After that they watched the game, cheering when the good things happened, shouting with the rest of the bar when the bad things occurred. The onion rings came out and Sam and Steve ate the lion’s share. Bucky drank most of the pitcher, with a defiant glance at Steve each time he refilled his glass. 

Their food came out during the second quarter with another pitcher of ale, steaming curling inviting smells to their noses. They dove in, occasionally hooting at the television in between bites. 

Sam was right, it was good food. It wasn’t high gourmet but Steve didn’t care about that. He ordered a side order of chili cheese fries when the waitress came by and Bucky asked for another pitcher of ale when she could get to it. 

Bucky wasn’t drunk but he was definitely relaxed and happier than Steve had seen him since before the war. Apparently going out and acting like a normal human being was just what the therapist ordered. 

Steve looked at Sam, who was watching him with that knowing gaze of his. “Told you it was what he needed.” 

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know.” 

“What?” Bucky shouted over the cacophony of another touchdown. “Shut your yapping, you two! I’m trying to watch to the game.” 

Steve heaved a sigh and turned his attention to the television and the Giants currently ahead 7 points. 

It didn’t last long. They were ahead up to half time but started to lose ground during the 3rd quarter. The crowd grew louder and more foul-mouthed, Bucky along with them. He groused about changes in the rules that Sam had to explain but went along with the general disgust of the crowd as the Giant lost their lead and the Dolphins began to pull ahead a few points at a time. 

By the time the middle of the fourth quarter rolled around, everybody but Steve was in a bad mood. He was enjoying the game, it was a good game. The Giants rallied and were pulling out of their slump, giving the Dolphins grief in trying to score some more points but he understood that it wasn’t what the crowd in the bar wanted. They wanted the Giants to come back and, as Sam put it in an eloquent shriek, “put those bastards back in their place’. 

Steve was doing okay, drinking tasty ale, eating chili cheese fries and enjoying his friends screaming obscenities at the game. 

Until. 

She was a petite girl sitting at the bar with a guy who wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to her. She was bored and Steve, when he went up to the bar for a pitcher refill, caught her asking the bartender for a phone number to local cab company since the bar wasn’t on a designated route. He gave her a sympathetic smile and she returned a weak one. 

“You okay?” he had asked. 

“Blind date that I’m going to kill my friend for,” she had replied. 

Now though someone noticed her date had wandered off, leaving her alone and still waiting on her cab. That someone, a big bulky guy with more tattoos than clothes if his bared arms were any indication, decided that she needed to be with him instead of miserably by herself. 

The woman was politely protesting and when the tattooed bruiser insisted that she join them by grabbing her upper arm and starting to drag her toward his table full of equally tattooed cohorts, she loudly squawked. No one paid her any attention, too busy watching the game to notice the potential trouble brewing. 

Steve did though. 

#

Clint Barton thought about going over to Steve, Bucky and Sam’s table but he was comfortable where he was with a good view of a nearby television. Sarah kept him well stocked in beer as she passed by his table, always with a smile. He was a regular, after all, and left a really good tip with each visit. 

The game was a good one, even if the Giants were a bunch of yutzes after half time. He was enjoying watching Bucky and Sam getting just as riled up as the rest of the bar as the game wore on. Steve didn’t seem as into it but he appeared to be relaxed at least. 

Until. 

At first Clint couldn’t tell what made Steve stiffen but all of his senses went into immediate alert. Steve wasn’t known for going off half-cocked so if something alarmed Steve, it alarmed Clint. He kept an eye on Steve as the man shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a bit and then finally, after downing the remainder of his beer, stood up. 

Clint sat up, interested to see where Steve was going. The pitcher on the table was half full so it wasn’t for more beer. Bucky and Sam hadn’t noticed anything amiss, eyes still focused on the television near their table. 

He tracked Steve’s destination and groaned. A woman was being forcibly removed from the bar by Jake, a local tough with the idea he was a Casanova on steroids. Clint realized Steve’s white knight complex was not going to let him idly sit by while a woman was accosted right in front of him. He had no way of knowing that once people noticed, Jake would be put in his place soonest. 

Steve interjected himself in the altercation but it was apparent to Clint that Jake had been drinking much too heavily today and was a little more belligerent than usual. The damsel in distress wasn’t stupid; she scurried behind Steve using him as the human shield he was. Clint was confident though that Steve’s natural knack for diplomacy would diffuse the situation and Jake would slink off with a few muttered threats and no real action. 

A guy could be wrong. 

Thankfully, Jake telegraphed his punch, giving Steve ample opportunity to duck the swing. He thought he heard Steve tell the girl to “Go!” and she tightened her grip on her purse and scuttled through the crowd now rowdy at the fact that the Giants were going to lose the game to the Dolphins. Tempers were high, higher than normal for some reason, and when Steve blocked a punch and gave Jake a gentle shove away Clint could see where the trouble lay. 

Jake’s buddies slowly surrounded Steve in the crowd. Steve was a tactician and recognized the battlefield, as it were. With another groan, Clint realized that things were about to go southward in a hurry and pulled out his cellphone. There was no way they were getting out of this without mayhem now. 

**CB:** U will never believe who is probably going to be arrested soon. 

**NR:** What did u do? 

**CB:** Not me! 

**NR:** Sry. What will you be doing? 

**CB:** I said not me. 

**NR:** Then who? 

**CB:** Our shield bearing buddy. 

**NR:** Cap? 

Clint watched as Steve ducked a swing, gave Jake a mighty shove that landed the small time bruiser into someone else’s table. There were dismayed and angry shouts and Jake disappeared in a small wave of pissed off and drunk Giants fans. The game was over anyway, Clint reckoned, there was no hope for a win. 

One of Jake’s buddies on Steve’s left made to throw a haymaker at him, but in the wind up and the close quarters, managed to smack somebody standing behind him in the back of the head instead. A small war broke out there too. 

Yep, old Mueller was going to be calling the cops just any minute now. It was a standing rule of no fighting in Mueller’s establishment. Clint gave serious thought to skedaddling but decided he wanted to see how this turned out first. 

**CB:** Yup. Playing white knight. 

**NR:** Oh Lord. 

**CB:** You think Pepper has protocols for getting Avengers out of jail? 

Steve blocked a punch from one of the two left over opponents. He was defending but not actually fighting back, Clint realized. The man knew his own super strength and acted accordingly. The bar’s occupants were slowly realizing that there were three small brawls going on and Clint distinctly heard a pained “Aw, Stevie!” from over in Bucky and Sam’s direction. 

The fight at the collapsed table petered out, leaving Jake a sprawled mess on the floor. The one that the aborted haymaker thrower started was finishing up with the bruiser trying to crawl away unsteadily. Too bad that the two remaining morons weren’t a little smarter. 

The one behind Steve picked up an empty chair and readied it to strike Steve from behind. Steve, occupied with his opponent in front of him, hadn’t noticed. 

Bucky had, though. He came out of nowhere and tackled the guy in a way that the Giants should have been doing for half the damned game. The metal arm flashed as the long sleeve of his shirt rode p a little and Clint swore he could almost hear bones creaking at the tight grip Bucky had on the man’s arm as he tried to wrestle the chair away from Steve’s exposed back. 

Clint glanced at his phone. 

**CB:** Yeah, now WS has joined the party. Sum1 tried to get S from behind. 

**NR:** What is it about men? 

**CB:** It was a harmless intervention, Nat. Girl didn’t want to go with Jake. 

**NR:** I told you to take care of Jake when he hit on me last time. 

**CB:** I think you did it ok. He runs when you come with me. 

Clint looked up in time to see Sam grab Jake from behind when he staggered to his feet to face Steve. He saw at the bar the owner was already on the phone, a baseball bat in one hand as the bar erupted into one big brawl. 

**CB:** Yeah better warn Pepper. Mueller’s calling cops. 

**NR:** Get out of there. Now. 

**CB:** Wanna watch the fun. Tell her bail for three. 

Clint looked up, took stock of the situation and threw caution to the wind. Bucky, Sam and Steve were surrounded by Jake and his buddies plus a few others just looking to blow off frustrated drunken steam. 

**CB:** make that 4

He threw himself into the fray. He liked the odds. 

#

Nat stared at her phone in disgust. Men! She wandered to Pepper and Tony’s floor, politely knocking on the lab door before entering. It was always good to give Tony notice that someone was entering in case he wanted to aim something at your head. It was a habit she approved of but didn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever he might be pointing. It was Tony Stark after all. 

She was in luck. Pepper wasn’t in her office but sitting at the long work table with a Chinese take out container in her hand. Tony was tinkering with something with a lot of wires, either having not noticed his cooling lunch or not caring. 

“Pepper, you are ready legally for anything the Avengers can throw at the world, right?” she asked in lieu of a greeting. Best to put Pepper on her guard right off the bat. She was a smart cookie. 

Pepper’s tawny eyebrows rose in surprise. “I like to think so,” she stated in her cool clipped tone. 

“Good, because you may need the one you have for bailing Avengers out of jail.” Nat swiped up Tony’s lunch, opened it and sniffed it while Pepper eyed her warily. “Mm, moo goo gai pan. Thanks, Stark.” 

Tony grunted, paying the women no mind. 

“Well, I know Tony can’t be involved because he’s been here all week. I can’t get him out of the lab let alone the Tower,” Pepper said carefully. 

“I am in the room and can hear you,” Tony muttered. Sparks flew and his hands flew from the wiring. “Ow.” He sucked on his forefinger and turned to find Nat eating his lunch. She grinned unrepentantly at him. The conversation caught up to him. “Hey, wait you have protocols in place in case I go to jail?” 

“It’s you, dear,” Pepper told him matter-of-factly. “Of course I do.” 

Tony thought about that for a moment and then shrugged. “Okay,” he agreed amiably and went back to work. 

“Well, I know it’s not Thor because he’s in Asgard,” Pepper reasoned. “Him and Tony I figured would be-“ She stopped mid sentence, not from the chiding look Tony was giving her at the assumption that both he and the Asgardian would be the prime jail suspects but because they obviously weren’t. “Wait, who are we talking about?” 

“He fights for freedom and damsels in distress at football bars on a Sunday afternoon,” Nat told her. “He is currently being backed up by the Winter Soldier and our therapist vet. I believe Clint threw in because the fight was getting good and he couldn’t let a good fight be passed up. So you’ll be needing that bail money for four.” 

Pepper stood up, Chinese food abandoned. Tony swooped in for the kill. 

“Right, “ Pepper stated, all business. “How long do we have?” 

Nat consulted her watch. “About ten minutes, fifteen if the police were just as pissed off about the game as the patrons at Benders Bar and Grill.” 

Pepper walked around Tony’s table and, with smart clicks of her expensive high heels, headed out the door. 

Tony’s head rose from the carton of Chinese. “Are we bailing them out? Can I come? I’ve always wanted to bail out Captain America.” 

Nat rolled her eyes and slapped her thigh like she was summoning a dog as she too headed for the door. “Well, come on then but if you don’t behave, we’ll put you in the kennel with the others and leave you there with them.” 

#

“That was awesome.” Clint reached between the bars and stretched. 

“I haven’t been in a good bar fight in years.” Sam was sporting a big grin and a black eye. 

“I could have skipped the whole thing, thanks.” Steve’s hair was mussed and that was it. 

“Yeah, well, next time, Captain White Knight, watch who you piss off!” Bucky had a mouse on his cheek and a split lower lip. His sharp words were lessened by the shit eating grin of delight he was sporting. 

“What? I was supposed to let the girl be dragged off by that Neanderthal?” Steve protested. 

“Stevie, I have a record now because of you. I just got the last one expunged!” 

“Shut up, Bucky.” 

“Aw, look at Captain Truth, Justice and the American Way and his sidekicks got into a bit of trouble.” Clint cackled and high fived Tony Stark who was suddenly standing right in front of their shared cell. 

“It was brilliant, man, sorry you missed it.” 

Tony gave them an evil grin. “The bar has video surveillance. I’m going to watch it tonight with popcorn. Thor’ll be sorry he missed it too, I’ll bet. A real tavern brawl, Midgardian style.” 

Clint cackled again, drowning out Steve’s groan. 

Clicking heels down the corridor made all the men stiffen and Pepper swanned into view with Nat hot on her heels. Pepper’s face was unreadable, which meant holy hell for all of them. Nat’s expression was pure maniacal enjoyment of their predicament. 

“The woman who was being accosted stuck around to explain your actions to the arresting officers, Steve,” she told the blond man imperiously. He hung his head. “You’ve been cleared of charges.” He grinned slightly at that. “The rest of you.” 

Clint’s gleeful expression fell. Bucky blinked with charming innocence at her. Sam was the only one who was smart enough to be apprehensive. 

“You have been remanded into my and Nat’s custody, so to speak. You aren’t to leave the Tower unless I give you a goddamned hall pass, do you understand me?” 

Sam raised his hand timidly. 

“Except to go to work, Sam,” Pepper amended, “but you will be under escort by a Stark Industries security man.” 

“Really? Aw, man!” moaned Sam. 

It was Tony who cackled. He nudged Pepper in the ribs. “And you always thought it would be me on the other side of the bars. Aren’t you proud of me?” 

“If you were interested enough in playing outside with the other children, you’d be in there too, Tony,” Pepper told him but her green eyes were twinkling enough for the four men on the other side of the metal bars to know she wasn’t seriously angry with them. 

“I expect all four of you to attend a press conference to explain your actions.” It was really the worst punishment she could think of. The only people who hated press conferences more than Steve and Sam were Clint and Bucky. “In order to get charges dropped for you other three you have to do 40 hours community service.” 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” shrugged Bucky. “I can scrub paint off walls and stuff.” He flexed his metal arm as if readying it for the challenge. 

Pepper folded her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. “The judge and I agreed that you’ll help Mr. Mueller put his bar back together, repair any damage you caused with your own two hands and pay for all new furnishings damaged during your little altercation. I also agreed to new televisions, which you will install.” 

Bucky blinked. “I don’t know how to install a television,” he told her, raising his hand like he was in school. 

“Then it’s time you learned,” Pepper told him primly. She nodded to the officer who came up beside her moments earlier. “Release them. I’ll make sure they stay home and not disturb the public with their idiocy, Officer Roarke.” 

Roarke seemed to be impressed with Pepper for he smiled winningly at her and unlocked the cell door. The four men trooped out, suitably chastised. Pepper handed Steve a slip of paper. 

“What’s this?” he asked in confusion. He opened to reveal a name and a phone number. 

“The name and number of your damsel in distress. You owe her dinner for getting you off the hook, Captain Rogers. I suggest you call her this evening and arrange it.” 

“Can’t I just do community service?” he called as everyone swung into formation to follow Pepper down the hall like ducklings after their mother. Nat brought up the rear and smacked Clint when he sniggered. 

“No, now be a good Boy Scout and call the girl. You wanted to play knight to her damsel, reap the rewards.” 

Bucky gave him a reproving look. “Good job, Stevie,” he said. 

“How is this my fault?” Steve protested. He stopped just in time to not run into Pepper. At his whiney tone she stopped and glared at him over her shoulder. “Yes, ma’am,” Steve said instinctively. His mother gave him that look often when he was kid. He knew it meant ‘do it or else’. 

“I ain’t covering your back no more, Stevie,” Bucky told him in a low tone. 

“I ain’t covering your front either,” Sam added. 

Clint grinned at Tony and Nat. Nat gave him a reproving look. “What? Like you wouldn’t have joined in once everybody they were up against realized it was Captain Freaking America and grabbed chairs to bean him with.” 

Nat rolled her eyes and followed the still bickering men in front of them. 

“Was it worth it? What did it feel like? I haven’t been in a good bar fight in years, since Pepper came into my life,” Tony pestered as they left the jail. Clint sighed happily. 

Best. Bar Fight. Ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit and leave prompts on my [TUMBLR](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wolfiejinn) account. I need to get out of my writing slump so I can finish "All We Needed Was the Radio". Tired of looking at my original novel for re-edits.


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